


Inside

by Oricalle



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Drabble, Gen, Horror, Innistrad (Magic: The Gathering), Inspired by a Card
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25648693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oricalle/pseuds/Oricalle
Summary: It is a warm day in Innistrad, and Reginald Fortrop is out for a walk.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Inside

“Pardon me. Excuse me. Pardon me.”

Even the rain that poured over the gray brick cobblestones of Sanctity could not dissuade the burgeoning crowds that flooded the town plaza on a Saturday morning. Citizens rushed from their homes, congealing into a massive herd, buying up the needed supplies before retreating back behind closed doors. In these dark days, even the statue of Avacyn that stood in the central plaza was hidden away, hastily covered beneath a tarp.

Could their savior truly have abandoned them?

It was not a question that lingered long upon the mind of Reginald Fortrop. Matters of angels and demons, he knew, were beyond his mortal ken. Instead, he would focus on his earthly work, and as Sanctity’s town doctor, he certainly had enough of it. Out of paper, he’d been forced to memorize today’s schedule, and was muttering it under his breath as he marched briskly through the crowds.

First, up the hill to the butcher, whose wife had taken a nasty fall.

Next, around the bend to the church, to deliver the priest his balms.

Last, to the tavern, where the innkeep had been running a fever.

Butcher, Church, Tavern

Butcher, Church, Tavern

“Butcher, Church, T-Oof!”

Shaken from his reverie, Reginald opened his eyes to find a man had bumped into him. The fellow wore a heavy cloak that covered much of his body, leaving only his face visible. He looked distant, somewhat distracted, and yet Reginald could tell that he was staring right at him.

“Apologies, sir!” Reginald dusted off the front of his jacket. “I suppose I should be more careful!”

He glanced back up, and the figure had changed. And yet, when he tried to place how, Reginald could not grasp the thought. It was as if the thing in front of him didn’t, _couldn’t_ exist, and was simultaneously enormous, all-consuming, the only thing to exist at all. It stared at him, and he stared back, and all at once a thousand eyes opened in the sky, and a thousand more inside of him.

And just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. Reginald Fortrop still stood on that bustling street, dazed and disoriented, but unmoved. He glanced around for the man, but he was gone, lost amidst the ever-shifting crowd. The doctor stumbled forward, returning to his morning walk with little more than a hint of unease in the back of his mind.

Butcher, Church, Tavern.

Beneath his gloves, he could feel his palms beginning to sweat. Reginald began to rub his hands together, hunching his shoulders to push the collar of his cloak higher on his face. The morning was abnormally cold, something he hadn’t noticed before. How could he have not? The air was absolutely frigid, every breeze an assault on his skin.

Cold. Cold. Cold.

With all the haste he could muster while retaining a gentlemanly posture, Reginald barreled out of the main throng of the crowd, watching it undulate through the streets as he ambled towards a stall on the side of the street selling fine fur coats.

“That one!” he cried, all sense of conversation lost in the torturous chill. The shopkeep, an elderly bearded man, raised an eyebrow as he fetched the heavy garment Reginald was staring at. The doctor ripped it from his hands, grabbing a pouch of gold from his cloak pocket and nearly hurling it at the seller before rushing off, nestled in the warm embrace of his new protection.

Butcher. Butcher. Butcher.

When Reginald arrived at his shop, the butcher was surprised by how thoroughly layered Dr. Fortrop was. The man was absolutely swaddled in a cloak far too large from him, barely peeking out from beneath the furs. His very gaze seemed distant, even as he met the butcher’s eyes.

“Mornin’, Doctor.” He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re lookin’ awful cold. I’ve got a fire goin’ in the front room, step inside.”

Without a word, the doctor crossed the threshold into the shop and walked towards the roaring fireplace.

Without a word, he thrust his hand into the flames.

Without a word, the skin that was once Reginald Fortrop sloughed and peeled away, and from inside stepped a thing that could not exist.

Across the city of Sanctity, the clutch began to hatch, and a thousand eyes watched from above as the end of Innistrad began.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my second weekly fic for the weekly drabbles I'm doing with InRemote! This week I decided my prompt would be a random Magic Card, so I hit up Scryfall and decided I'd allow myself three presses of the "Random Card" button (I don't want to have to write a story on "Island").
> 
> I needed one to go "Oh _shit_."
> 
> The card is Grotesque Mutation, from Shadows over Innistrad. For those unfamiliar, that expansion deals with the Gothic Horror themed plane of Innistrad, as an otherworldly influence creeps its way in, corrupting the mind of the plane's defenders, the angels, and causing some...disturbing events among the people.
> 
> https://scryfall.com/card/soi/115/grotesque-mutation (Body Horror Warning, this one is pretty gnarly.)
> 
> So I decided to reach way out of my comfort zone and try some body horror. I feel...mixed about the results. This is very much practice, so I'd like to get better, but I had a lot of fun just trying to piece together a story for this card art, which is IMO one of the grossest and most evocative in Magic. (magnifying glass from this same set is also up there)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story, and I welcome any feedback!


End file.
